If my brother happened to be in a good humour, I received permission to take a roll down to him, and he always snatched it out of my hand with a certain greedy anxiety, as if there were danger of my withdrawing it at the last moment. What did he look like? I can still see him as if he were right there in front of me. His straight flaxen hair hung down over his sunburned cheeks like a thatched roof, with his blue eyes peering from underneath, jolly and cunning. He wore his ragged trousers rolled up over his knees, and always carried an osier switch, into which, along the green bark, he had cleverly cut white spirals. It was upon this switch that my childish covetousness first fastened itself. How fascinating to hold in my hand a marvellous piece of work like that, so different from all my toys! And when I pictured to myself being allowed to chase geese with it and to go barefoot, the pinnacle of earthly happiness had been reached. And it was this same switch that brought us into human contact. One morning at breakfast, as I saw him going by so cheerily, I could no longer restrain my desire. I furtively put together the pieces of the roll spread with honey that I was eating and asked hurriedly to be excused, and ran after him. When he saw me coming, he stopped and looked at me wonderingly. But as soon as he caught sight of the roll in my hand, a gleam of comprehension shot into his eyes. "Will you give me your switch?" I asked. "Why?" he asked back, and put one foot up to rub the calf of his other leg. "Because I want it," I said defiantly, then added more gently, "I'll give you my roll spread with honey for it." He let his eyes rest longingly on the piece of deliciousness, and then finally observed. "No, I have to have it for the geese, but I'll cut another one like it for you." "Can you do that?" I was all astonishment. "Oh, that's nothing," he pooh-poohed. "I can make flutes, too, and jumping jacks." I was so completely carried off my feet that I handed him the roll on the spot. He bit into it with gusto, and, not honouring me with another glance, he drove his feathered flock off before him. I looked after him, envy in my heart. _He_ was allowed to shepherd geese, but _I_ had to go up to Mademoiselle and learn French. Yes, I thought, how unequal fortune's favours are. That evening he brought me the switch he had promised to make. It was even more beautiful than I had dared to hope in my wildest dreams. There were the white spirals that had so fascinated me in the original, and more than that, the butt-end was topped with a knob, on which a human countenance--whether mine or his, I could not unriddle--was depicted by two dots and two dashes at right angles.